*Originally Published in The Statesman (2002), Stony Brook, NY

Note to Reader: To begin addressing what a beach rat is there needs to be an understanding of its etymology. To be a beach rat isn’t necessarily the literal definition of beach and rat, instead it’s actually a metaphor; like an autobiography written about me, through the caption of someone else’s eye, and how that allows me to appease my own self-aware consciousness! The entire idea of which is like driving a yellow-mustang. This is essential to understand prior to reading, “The Autobiography of Tom West.”

I looked at Damian and Damian looked at me. We both understood that this was not where we once were, or where we would soon be, but this is where we are, and it’s healthy. It was never mentioned out loud, if it was, it would disappear and nobody wanted this to end.

We were the only ones who came to the beach everyday, but we were always looking for more. This is what led us to the ocean, volleyball courts, prettiest ass on the beach, and the back seats of cars. Our beach gave us football games that we starred in, as well as the best natural tans. The beach gave life.

“Hey Damian, there’s a new regular. He’s cool, I think,” I chuckled.

“Ah, sure, he’s down,” Damian said.

“Ha, ha, he’s down,” I chuckled.

“Down, down…down,” we laughed.

Drew had the biggest arm on the beach. After a short time, they would ask him to play if he was just sitting. Playing bongos, guitar and singing after surfing, volleyball and tanning, was proof that we were Undisputed Kings. Radios would be asked off when we played. The toughest kids would say, “turn those radios off,” so we never had to ask.

This did not seem cheesy to us. This made our days. These were younger days. Now I am living with a girl. We share a life. She has a name.

Doheny was the toughest kid. He worked at a gym. He thought he had a better arm than Drew. Maybe he did, maybe… Drew definitely had a better glove. Plus his throws looked effortless. They looked as if he had ever just tried; maybe…

The days got shorter. I now contract my own contacts. Working for myself brought freedom, but freedom with such boundaries. I can’t go to the beach or the bar anymore. Drew still comes over, not like before. Before it was meeting up, now I call to invite.

Before she was fat, pretty heavy, I wouldn’t even hook up with her, but I did anyway and so did Drew. Now I look at her and forget the sunset. What sunset? Where’s the sunset? She is now healthy. She stands so pretty. She is the one who sees the sun with binoculars.

The Review:
Damian said, “I sound gay, you’re gay.”
Doheny said, “I have such a better glove than Drew.” Damian then said, “I don’t know anything about that.” I could not get in touch with Drew. He is stuck, still a beach rat. That’s good or its not, I’m not sure. He told me the last time I spoke to him that, “sunshine can come from anywhere,” I know what he means.

She put her binoculars down and skipped across my plane of sight. She waved. She waved!